


your books with mine.

by kay_okay



Series: 8-bit fiction prompts [3]
Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Bookstores, Fluff, Hiding, Kisses, Kissing, M/M, TATINOF
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-17
Updated: 2016-01-17
Packaged: 2018-05-14 11:23:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,112
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5741863
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kay_okay/pseuds/kay_okay
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dan’s voice trails off at the end of the sentence and looks up. Phil’s face is soft, open. His eyes are staring back, and Dan takes note for the first time of how close they are. The open book between them the only distance keeping them apart.</p><p>Anyone could turn the corner, Dan tries to reason with himself, but it’s too much to consider right now.</p>
            </blockquote>





	your books with mine.

**Author's Note:**

> a prompt from 8-bit fiction: http://8bitfiction.com/post/127540206926:  
>  _"one day, dear, these books - yours - with mine."_
> 
> halfway through tatinof and phil gets turned on by dan's **articulate** reading voice.
> 
> this is a work of fiction. this is a fictional story about fictional representations of real people. none of the events are true. no profit was made from this work. unbetaed, all mistakes are my own.

They’re in Belfast, and though it’s a little overcast, Dan finds it oddly welcoming. It’s chilly, crisp cool air, and every time he takes a deep breath in he feels like he’s gulping down a cool drink of fresh water. It’s late in the afternoon but still with a lot of time before their show starts, and they’ve stopped at this little gift shop off the beaten path. It’s famous in this part of town apparently, so Dan and Phil had the van pull over to film a bit in the shop for a tour vlog. The rest of the crew shoves off for a bit, in search of an authentic Irish pub they can all have lunch at, promising to text when they find it. 

The shop is deceptively huge, as it looks like a tiny hole in the wall from the outside. Full of a million little trinkets, Dan feels a bit like he’s wandered into the magical tent from Harry Potter, or at the very least stumbled into Hermione’s purse. Dan meanders into the book section, a little library all on its own, at least ten rows of dusty vintage books and papers cataloged meticulously by year. He goes to an area in a back corner, labeled in a hand-drawn sign as _American Poets._

There’s a bright red book that stands out on the shelf against its brown and cream-colored neighbors, dust jacket absent. He rifles through the yellowed pages a little, and just as he’s about to close the book a pair of hands fall on his shoulders and Dan hears a shout.

“Did I scare you?!” Phil’s grinning behind him, and Dan turns around and punches him in the arm.

“Yes!”

Phil rubs his bicep, grimacing, but he’s laughing. “You looked so intense. I was watching you for a good minute before I even came over here.”

“You’re a creep.”

“So I’m told.” Phil reaches over and takes the book out of Dan’s hands, looking at the poem he had open. 

Dan watches him read, tries to pretend he’s not looking at Phil out of the corner of his eye, busying himself skimming the spines of the books on the shelves. He goes to reach for one when Phil crowds into his space, pointing at a section of the opened book and showing it to Dan.

“This part’s nice.”

Dan looks at the space on the page and reads out loud.

_“You have played_  
_(I think)_  
_And broke the toys you were fondest of_  
_And are a little tired now;_  
_Tired of things that break and-_  
_Just tired._  
_So am I._

_But I come with a dream in my eyes tonight_  
_And knock with a rose at the hopeless gate of your heart-_  
_Open to me!_  
_For I will show you the places Nobody knows_  
_And if you like_  
_The perfect places of Sleep.”_

Dan’s voice trails off at the end of the sentence and looks up. Phil’s face is soft, open. His eyes are staring back, and Dan takes note for the first time of how close they are. The open book between them the only distance keeping them apart.

Anyone could turn the corner, Dan tries to reason with himself, but it’s too much to consider right now. Reading his mind, Phil’s hand reaches for the book and pulls it aside, his other hand tugging Dan’s hip to bring him into a kiss.

They don’t stay sweet for long, too keyed up and hungry for it to take their time, pressed tightly as possible to each other. Phil bites against Dan's lips, opens his mouth to the sounds Dan's making, tiny mewls that find their way past Dan's tongue as Phil drinks them in. He slips his arms fully around Dan's waist, jumping a little as Dan's hand drops the book and it crashes the floor. Dan slides his palms up, winding his arms around Phil’s shoulders to bring him closer somehow, almost impossible but he’ll try anything. 

Phil tightens his fingers into the back of Dan's shirt as they keep exploring, unattainable fantasies for the rest of the night unfolding in front of them. Phil gets lost in it, forgets where they are, ditches the map in favor of anchoring his arms up and under Dan’s jacket, leaning further forward when he turns them around and Dan tips his head back against the bookshelf and sighs. There’s miles of ground to cover under the smooth curve of Dan’s jawline, and Phil leads the charge with a hot mouth and halted breath, teeth biting and tongue soothing against the soft skin of Dan’s neck. 

The buzzing fluorescent lights in the ceiling flicker a little, unseen by travelers with tightly closed eyelids and occupied minds.

*

A week later, they’re blissfully home for a quick rest before their last show in London. Dan is climbing into their bed, freshly showered and so tired, exhaustion bone-deep, he thinks he may fall asleep before his head actually hits the pillow. He bundles up in a blanket cocoon and sends Phil a text.

_going to bed now i may already be asleep as i type this please put socks on before you come to bed so you don’t freeze me again with your ice cube toes like you did last night_

_Did you mean: Phil’s going to sleep on the couch tonight and not cuddle his ungrateful boyfriend_ and Phil’s just in the office so Dan’s not going to give him the satisfaction of laughing out loud so he can hear him because it’s actually a picture and Phil went to the trouble to find one of those meme generator sites so yeah, that was pretty funny. Dan sends a heart emoji with two snowmen, then locks his phone and plugs it in next to the bed. He leans over to put it on the nightstand and in the process nudges his pillow aside. Something slides out from under it and crashes to the floor.

He grabs his phone for light and when he switches it on, sees a familiar book with the bright red cover and no dust jacket. Dan stares at it a minute, and has to make sure he’s not hallucinating. 

Once he realizes he’s not, he picks it up and holds it in his hands. He trains the phone light on the pages as he flips through, finding nothing out of the ordinary inside, no note or scribbles. Just one dog-eared page, a poem he’s read out loud once before about persistence and compatibility.

He doesn’t realize how big his smile is until he feels his face warm, falling asleep with the book in his hands.

**Author's Note:**

> the lovely poem featured is "you are tired (i think)" by ee cummings.


End file.
